Chapter 2

A stay at home mother, a perfectionist daughter with an evil split personality and a murderous father ignoring his conscience makes for a killer family.

Chapter Two: Maria Thomas.

“Aren't you happy?” My mother's voice echoed through my mind. I nodded.

Since I woke up the day had felt off, there was something different and this�"this alone was it.

“I think she's in shock.” Dads voice broke my train of thought. “Are you okay, pumpkin?”

“Y-yeah. I just don't understand�"“

“We wanted to get you something for your birthday...so we're moving.” Mom held her hands out as if what she had just said were obvious. I still couldn't find the 'birthday gift' in it all. They had been considering moving for months and Mom had kept her mind on the carpet, flooring and how many rooms we'd have. And now, now they are saying it's for me.

I would have rather had nothing for my birthday.

“Thanks.” I shrugged. I'm not going to ruin it for everyone. “Where to?”

“Michigan.” Dad said apologetically.

“I thought I clearly stated that I loath Michigan with every bone in my body?”

“Well, we think it would be a nice change not to mention your Father has a decent amount of fans there but not enough to make it tough for him to walk outside.”

“Like here? Like he has an issue grabbing the morning paper among the snobs we call neighbors? They never bother him.”

“This isn't an argument, Pumpkin.”

“I'm not arguing. I'm just stating pure fact.” I clung to my books like they were a raft to keep me above the treacherous waters that plagued our sitting room.

“You'll like it or you can just become a hermit and stay in your room apart from going to school. It's as easy as that.”

“Why didn't you just tell me to go jump off of a bridge for my birthday Mother, it would have been less painful.” I turned on my heels and climbed the stairs to my bedroom. This wasn't a good seventeenth birthday present at all and they knew it all along. Happy big freakin' birthday to me, just another reminder that I'm stuck doing EVERYTHING they want to do until I’m considered a legal adult. Oh joy.

My way of yelling at my parents or showing complete discomfort is usually hiding in my room and not saying much�"that is exactly what I had planned to do until...

Knock, knock.

But of course he didn't wait for me to invite him in because he had been through this many times.

“Pumpkin. We're heading out tonight. You'll need to pack your things for the movers.”

“Why don't you just kill me, Dad?”

“Do you realize how much you sound like them right now?”

By them he meant my classmates, like teenagers. It was our inside joke that I was an adult stuck in a child’s body and that's why I've been so well behaved most of my life. That's why every school assignment has always seemed like a breeze for me. Kind of like I've lived this life more than once.

“Fine.” I leaned my head on his shoulder. “But you do know how much I really disapprove of this move, right?”

“I understand, but we can’t change our minds on this. We need to leave.”

“Why?”

“There comes a time when a marriage needs new sights. Your Mother and I need change to keep this going.” He kissed my forehead and held me tight. “Do you understand from our point of view?”

“To keep it going? I haven’t even heard one argument.”

“We argue when you’re not around, we don’t want to expose you to that. So can you try and do this for us?”

“I guess so...”

 

Packing had to be the most excruciating thing I had ever endured. I'm a neat person but somehow over the seventeen years I've been living I look like a hoarder under it all.

I left out my Father’s latest novel on purpose. I have yet to finish it, so maybe I can get some reading in on our way to the ‘new’ house.  I grabbed the book from my nightstand and headed for my bedroom door only to get caught by my reflection in the mirror, but once again it looked darker and she demanded my attention.

You do know they aren’t doing this for you. It’s their sick way of not feeling sorry they forgot your birthday.

“They didn’t forget my birthday, they just spent a lot of money on this move and we both know how frugal they are since they didn’t have much money until Dad began writing.”

Oh, is that why they haven’t even bothered to get you a cake?

“A cake on the day we’re moving? I can see it now. Candles blazing on a cardboard box. Funny.”

You know you want a little bit of attention, I can feel it. Are we forgetting that we’re the same person?

“I’m not you.” I shook my head quickly.

Oh but marionette, you are… I pull your strings you do as I say.

“I don’t do anything I don’t want to.”

Uh oh, the good one’s getting snarky.

“Shut up.”

You know you can’t make me. Just like right at this very second, you can’t move away from this mirror. Tell me marionette…

“Stop calling me that.”

Do you like your mundane life…pushing forward when there’s nothing to reach at the end of that tunnel? Let me take the reins for a little while. Let me have control. I’ll set your world on fire.

“Pumpkin.”

I whirled around to face my father, sweat dripping from my forehead. “Yes, Dad?”

“We’re ready.”

I nodded and glanced back at the mirror, hoping she wasn’t there. I thought for a split second she wasn’t until I winked without me controlling it.

Downstairs the place looked like it had been broken into. The walls that once held family portraits were now bare, leaving behind a lighter mark where the frame had once been.

“We've paid everything, have our tickets. It's time.” Mom clutched onto the paper in between her thin fingers as if it meant life or death.

“We're flying?”

“Yes, pumpkin we are.” Dad kissed the top of my head as he ushered me out of the door and towards our car.

“Are we leaving this here?”

“We'll get a new one.” Mom said as we all settled in.

“You'll like the house.” Dad said, an apologetic look on his face reflected in the rear view mirror.

“Maybe.” I nodded. He has always done that, given me that look even when I do good at something. Why?

“You will.”

Unless it's an expression of pure shock, as if I weren't capable of doing something good.